Master of Shadows
by AquilaTempestas
Summary: A dark evil has arisen, threatening to sunder the fragile peace of the region. Ethan and his friends are forced to embark on a journey to unearth the truth while a war between different religious factions begins. Little does Ethan know, his actions will impact the lives of everyone around him. An epic tail of redemption, war and love. AU high fantasy. Cover by Nirianne!
1. Madari

**Disclaimer**

The rights to Pokemon do not belong to me

**Title**

Master of Shadows

**Summary**

A dark evil has arisen, threatening to sunder the fragile peace of the region. Ethan and his friends are forced to embark on a journey to unearth the truth while a war between different religious factions begins. Little does Ethan know, his actions will impact the lives of everyone around him.

**.**

**Chapter One: Madari**

The fresh smell of herbs filled his nostrils as he walked through the crowded streets of Madari bypassing stalls, and bumping into random locals as he tried to navigate his way around. People had come from all parts of the city to exchange to exchange coins with tradesmen, purchase goods for loved ones and catch up with the latest gossip with friends. Normally, he avoided such events, for he disliked crowds, but today he had a task – find a gift for Lyra, his half-sister. To aid him in that task, he sought out his best friend and local thief, Silver. As per usual, the boy was standing near a group of people, waiting for the right moment to reach in and nab a pouch of coins.

Ethan pushed his way through until he reached his friend. "Stealing in broad daylight – are you that desperate for a few coins?"

Silver jerked his hand back and faced Ethan, his dark brows furrowed. "I'm taking the money back they took off me last week during a round of Sticks and Stones."

The stern look on Ethan's face morphed into a grin. "You know, if you really need some coin, you could've just asked me." He brought a hand down to the hide belt around his waist and removed the pouch of coins, dangling it before Silver's face. The boy's eyes lit up, but he didn't make a move to take it away.

"You know I don't beg."

"That's why you steal."

Silver shrugged. "So Mr. Money Bags, how about we put your coins to good use and place a few bets with the other soldiers down at the Paws and Claws tavern?"

Ethan shook his head. "I was actually hoping of spending these coins on a gift for my half-sister, Lyra. Besides, don't you remember what happened down at the tavern the last time you and I played a game? You drank too much and made a fool of yourself in front of all the soldiers. They were talking about it for weeks. We both got banned for a week."

Silver smirked at the memory. "Falkner was pretty mad."

"Let's just stay away from the tavern, all right? I need to buy something for Lyra." He already knew what to purchase as well, having promised to buy the expensive amulet with the symbol of a phoenix engraved in it. The amulet was called Ho-Oh, and was rumoured to possess magical healing abilities, but no one had managed to unlock it.

"You're thinking of buying that amulet aren't you? Don't be crazy, Ethan. You should know not to purchase anything from a foreign merchant."

Rolling his eyes, Ethan sighed. The markets were not only hosted by their own people, but merchants from outside the city walls also came to sell their goods. They were often treated with suspicion by the locals, but Ethan saw no reason to. He loved hearing their tales from their homelands and learning about their laws. "I'm going to buy it no matter what you say."

"It's your money," Silver replied, following Ethan towards the far end of the market stalls where the foreign traders were often found. All but one stall had people viewing their goods on display. There was a male and female standing at their stall, watching the locals with obvious distaste. The male had dark blue spiky hair, while the female wore her long brown locks in two pigtails. Both were dressed in simple hide armour.

As they moved towards the stall, they bypassed a slave who was tied to a pole. Slaves purchased by merchants often had to accompany their master, and were made to carry the heavy items. They were easily identified by the chain around their necks which had a thick rope attached to it. This allowed slave owners to walk them around without worrying their slave would escape.

"Hey, isn't that one of the slaves Surge rounded up?" Silver said, drawing Ethan's attention towards a dirty blond-headed boy tied to a pole with thick rope. Unlike the other slaves present, this one wasn't trying to remove the rope from the chain around his neck. It was as if he had resigned himself to his fate.

"Yeah, that's him all right. I think Surge said his name was Barry or something. Surge said he picked him up after raiding one of the nearby towns." Silver's expression darkened. He spat down at the ground then kicked it with his right foot. "I don't understand why your father allows people like that within our walls. Look at his eyes – they're orange."

"My father obviously thinks the slaves have some worth otherwise they'd all be dead," Ethan said, darting his eyes at the slave. "I don't think he's being fed well, look at how thin he is," he added as an afterthought. The slave had lost so much weight his clothes barely fit.

Silver wrinkled his nose in disgust. "We should keep our distance. Who knows what diseases these slaves have?"

"I'm curious about these orange eyes you speak of. Come on, what's the worst he could do? Look at him." Silver seemed reluctant, but he followed Ethan towards the slave. The slave boy's head was bowed in prayer. Ethan snorted. Foolish boy. The boy was probably praying to one of his false Gods. "Barry," Ethan said.

Barry's head jerked up. A dark purple bruise forced his right eye shut. Piercing orange eyes stared back at Ethan, but the boy did not speak. Instead, he arched his neck back, and gazed up at the sky, murmuring words in a language Ethan did not understand. Ethan noticed he was holding an amulet in the palm of his right hand which had an image of a stag on it. Once he was done, he looked back down, tears trailing down his tanned cheeks. "May the Guardian of Light curse you for what you and your people have done," he said softly.

"We have done no wrong," Silver snapped. "We saved your town from being destroyed by the bandits of the Aqua tribe, and this is your appreciation? I knew we should've left your people there to die as punishment."

"The Guardian of Light will rise again."

Ethan took a step forward. "The Guardian of Light? What nonsense do you speak of?"

"He's a follower of the Xerneas Clan," Silver said.

"Xerneas?"

Silver raised an eyebrow. "You never paid any attention during class, did you? Xerneas is a pagan God – he's supposed to take the form of a stag and is said to bring light to dark places. You know what the pagans are like – they're liars. They do not believe in the one true God, Arceus. They believe in the lies the mages have spawned."

"I could have you killed, slave," Ethan said, glaring down at the pitiful boy with distaste, "But I'm in a charitable mood today – you can suffer at the hands of soldiers instead. Perhaps you can be the target practice for the next session."

"Didn't I say this would be a waste of time? Let's just hurry up and buy that amulet before this slave makes me sick to the stomach."

Ethan studied the amulet for a few moments longer then lifted his gaze and nodded. Something about this slave made him feel uneasy, and it wasn't the stench coming from him. He took a step back, cast another dirty glance then turned around. Instead, he fixed his gaze on his pouch of coins and opened it. "I only brought fifty gold coins."

"Only fifty gold coins?" Silver dropped his mouth open in fake shock. He dug a hand into his own pocket and pulled out his money bag made out of pigskin. "I've got about a hundred gold. Here, you can have them," he said, handing the pouch over. Ethan raised a brow – most likely they were stolen too, but he did need the money, after foolishly spending too much at the tavern last weekend. "Don't worry; the guy I pinched it from was drunk. He probably doesn't even realize he's missing coins."

Ethan wasn't so sure but he took the bag from Silver and opened it, pouring the coins into his own pouch. Currency was important within Madari; it defined the status of the individual. Only family members of the High Priests and long serving military men possessed large amounts of gold coins while the remainder of the population settled with silver and bronze coins. Fifty bronze coins were worth twenty silver coins and ten silver coins equalled one gold coin. "Thanks Silver."

Silver ignored Ethan's comment instead choosing to head towards the expensive jewellery market stall. Ethan ran after him eager to keep up; he did not want to lose Silver in the crowd. He pushed his way through the busy crowd and approached the boy and girl standing at the stall. As with many of the other stalls, they had a curtain around them, which was most likely done to provide some form of protection from the elements.

"Greetings, young man. My name is Hugh, and this is my partner, Rosa." The girl smiled. "What can I do for you?" he bowed as a display of mutual respect.

Ethan cast his eyes over the jewellery present in the store searching for the phoenix amulet. "I'm searching for the Amulet of Healing. You know the one with Ho-Oh on it?" he said. "Do you have it?"

The man turned around to face the back of the stall. He parted the curtains an inch and poked his head through. "Sister! Where is the Amulet of Healing?" he shouted. A muffled response came and the jeweller returned to face Ethan and Silver. "My younger sister has kept the amulet hidden in a chest to conceal it from untrustworthy eyes. It's very expensive and we do not want to risk having it stolen by bandits," he remarked.

A young female who bore little resemblance to her brother emerged from the curtains, cradling a small chest in her thin arms. She too was dressed in simple hide armour. "Here it is brother, safe and sound," she said, handing the chest to her older sibling. While Hugh opened the chest, the young girl spoke.

"I know you – you're Ethan, the son of the High Priest Elm." She then turned to face Silver. "And you're Silver – the boy with the keen eye and nimble fingers."

Silver folded his arms, trying to keep a neutral expression, but Ethan could see the pride in the boy's eyes. "Yeah? What have you heard?"

A bemused smile crossed the girl's face. "You're both _devout_ servants of Arceus."

"What's it to you?" Silver retorted. "You're not a believer in the false gods, are you?"

Hugh threw his sister a glare. "Hold your tongue!" He then turned to face the two boys again. "I apologize; my sister sometimes doesn't know when to remain quiet. Please forgive her; she did not mean to imply offense with her words."

"None taken," Ethan said. "You should be glad we're not just the typical folk – if the guards had heard, you would be labelled as one of the Faithless and your permit to trade her would be cancelled. Hugh paled. The Faithless were brought to the Temple of the Gods and punished before a status of Arceus for their lack of faith. What punishment they received was only for the High Priests themselves to witness, but it could be assumed it wasn't good since the Faithless were never seen again.

"Hugh, you know as well as I do that..." A glare from Hugh silenced him and Hugh returned his attention to the chest before him.

"What do you know?" asked Ethan, his curiosity heightened.

Hugh shook his head. "Nothing but gossip from the merchants; you do not need to be burdened by mere truthless words," he said, still glaring at his sister.

Rosa cleared her throat. "The chest, my love," she said, gesturing down at it. "The amulet, remember? These boys wish to purchase it."

"So, are you going to open it or are we going to spend time looking at the chest for the rest of our lives?" Silver said, leaning against the table and staring down at the chest, his voice laced with thick sarcasm.

Rosa looked at Hugh who nodded in reply. He reached down into his pocket and pulled out a silver key. Placing the key inside the keyhole, he turned it clockwise to open the chest. The lock popped open. Hugh reached into the chest and pulled out the amulet and presented it to Ethan with caution. "Here it is, the Amulet of Healing. It is called Ho-Oh."

Ethan took the precious amulet from Hugh and examined it. As with most amulets, the amulet Ethan held was made of a ceramic composed of crushed quartz with small amounts of lime and plant Ethan. Other materials used to make the amulet included glass, semi-precious stones and sometimes gold, silver or bronze. A bright blue-green vitreous-alkaline glaze coated the amulet bringing out the colour. This amulet had the shape of a phoenix and it was attached to a line of beads to wrap it around the neck. "Lyra will certainly be pleased," Ethan said. "I wish to purchase it."

"That will be one hundred and fifty gold coins," Hugh said.

Ethan gave him the pouch of coins and gripped the amulet. "Thank you," Ethan said. "Come on Silver, better give Lyra the gift now before she comes running through the streets on a Zebstrika searching for me." He shuddered at the thought of being chased by a Zebstrika. He said his goodbyes to Hugh and Rosa before heading towards the Temple of Healing where his half-sister spent her days tending to the sick and dying.

"What do you think Hugh's sister was about to say before Hugh silenced her?" Silver asked, walking towards the north eastern part of the city. A Zebstrika trainer with long green hair in white robes hurried past them cursing about a missing Zebstrika. Silver chuckled to himself, amused by the thought of a wild animal running through the busy streets. Someone was going to get trampled. "He's obviously not a believer in Arceus himself."

Ethan nodded in agreement. "Can't say for sure, but I don't think they're believers in the false gods either. I think they're heathens – the non believers." Madari once had its fair share of heathens as well but they were driven out by the guards at the introduction of the new laws when his father had taken over leadership. Once every full moon, a great banquet was hosted to say their thanks to Arceus for providing them with the necessary resources to survive. Every citizen was required to cook a large meal and bring the food to the Temple of the Gods as a sign of thanks. The feast would begin as soon as the sun dipped below the horizon.

The laws, known as the Law of Three, were strict and sometimes cruel. These laws were devised by the High Priests to control the locals. The first law required every citizen to offer a sacrifice twice every month. Members of the military visited every household in the city to ensure the first law was carried out.

The second law required all able men aged between thirteen and twenty nine to join the militia to carry out the wishes of the Gods if healthy and fit. Women were to look after their husbands, carry out household duties and spend the weekend praying before the Gods at sunset until sunrise on Monday. Any woman and child not present at the gathering would be immediately sentenced to death.

The final law required all citizens to have the face of Arceus tattooed onto their arms. Failure to follow this simple law resulted in a decade behind filthy bars. Ethan shook his head reflecting on the ways of his people. The High Priests awarded the Faithful with great rewards such as money and status whilst sentenced the Faithless to a life of misery or even death. Ethan believed in Arceus, but he did agree the laws were unnecessarily harsh, though he dared not voice this opinion out loud.

"We should report them as Faithless then investigate. If we report them, then perhaps your father will allow us to watch what happens to a Faithless. You can't say you're not curious."

Ethan cast his friend a dark glance. Despite his connections to the High Priests, he was not allowed to watch Faithless face the consequences of failing to abide by the laws. "We can't risk it Silver, what if we are discovered? My father would not spare me." He would live, but he would be banished from the city.

"Where's your sense of adventure Ethan? We can even bring Lyra along if she's willing," he said, his shoulders sagging with mock disappointment.

Ethan gripped Silver's arm. "I do not want to risk her life for our stupidity."

Silver pulled free of Ethan's grip and pushed his arm away. "We're not going to be caught Ethan. Besides, we'll just ask our friend Falkner to keep guard while we enter the temple. He has his eyes everywhere in this city."

"And what if the High Priests decide to explore the temple? He will have to agree."

"We'll find a good place to hide Ethan, come on don't you want to know what happens?" urged Silver.

Ethan remained silent. He wanted to know what happened to the Faithless with his own eyes, but he was afraid of the consequences. Being cast out of the city for life would make it almost impossible to settle in another city as he would be branded with the mark of an outcast. If he were lucky, his father might spare him of the brand. Branded or not, venturing outside in the desert was suicidal.

The world outside Madari's walls were dangerous; rogue bandits roamed the lands preying on hapless merchants, powerful stray priests wandered the lands searching for tomes to harness the magic within them and wild animals were constantly on the prowl looking for fresh meat. Not only that, but Madari had many enemies. The free people of Icirrus would gladly take him and his friends as prisoners, and the war-like tribe of the dragon tamers of Qubo would not hesitate to make an example of them.

But Silver had a natural way of convincing people to partake in madness. If Ethan refused, Silver would most certainly carry on without him. Ethan sighed. "Fine, I'll come with you but you have to promise me we will not be caught and no one will come to harm," he said, staring into Silver's eyes.

Silver nodded and waved his arm around in the air. "You have my word. Now have you had enough time talking, or are you ready to go?" Ethan nodded. It was time to act.

.

Here is it! My attempt at writing a high fantasy world using Pokémon characters! I had this story up before, but I didn't like having Ash as a main character, and decided to write it using someone else more fitting. This story will be quite a dark tale, and quite violent in some places, but I hope it will be worth it since there aren't many high fantasy stories in Pokémon. Reviews are much appreciated, as always!


	2. Twisted Truths

**Disclaimer**

The rights to Pokemon do not belong to me

**Title**

Master of Shadows

**Summary**

A dark evil has arisen, threatening to sunder the fragile peace of the region. Ethan and his friends are forced to embark on a journey to unearth the truth while a war between different religious factions begins. Little does Ethan know, his actions will impact the lives of everyone around him.

**Special Thanks**

Thanks to cascadenight for reviewing the previous chapter! I know high fantasy isn't popular in this fandom, but I will try to write an enjoyable story.

**.**

**Chapter Two: Twisted Truths**

Silver and Ethan walked towards the Temple of Healing, a colossal building made out of sun-baked mud brick and limestone. It cast a shadow over the other smaller buildings and market stalls, but wasn't quiet as big as the Temple of the High Priests. It sat atop a small hill making the walk up to the entrance challenging. Silver led the way up the gentle sloping hill, giving Ethan a sideways glance. "Getting cold feet, Ethan?" he teased.

Ethan rolled his eyes. "There's Lyra," he said, jerking his head forward, bringing Silver's attention towards a slender girl dressed in white robes. There was a sand coloured band of linen around her waistline to highlight her status as a healer of Madari. In addition to the robes, all healers had to wear their hair back with a golden coloured piece of cloth. The girl turned her attention towards the two boys, lifted her dress up an inch to stop it from touching the sand, and hurried over.

"Ethan! Silver! I wasn't expecting you both to drop by visit!" Lyra greeted, throwing her arms around Ethan first, before giving Silver a hug. She drew back and beamed a smile. "What did I do to deserve this special visit? It's not even visiting hours."

"Have you forgotten what day it is?" Silver said.

She raised an eyebrow, but remained silent.

"It's your birthday, Lyra. Arceus, how could you have forgotten?" Silver exclaimed.

Ethan wasn't surprised. His half-sister worked many long hours tending to the sick and dying that often she forgot important events. "Close your eyes and hold out both your hands," he ordered. Lyra obeyed. Ethan placed the amulet in her hands. "Now open them again." She did, and dropped her gaze down. Her eyes widened, and a smile quickly crossed her face. "Happy birthday, sister. It's exactly what you wanted – the Amulet of Healing."

Lyra took the amulet from Ethan's hands and gently caressed the surface of the item. "It's so beautiful Ethan, thank you!" she said, throwing her arms around him and hugging him once again. She held him for a few moments then removed her arms, placing the amulet around her neck.

"We didn't just drop by to wish you a happy birthday," Silver remarked. "Ethan and I are going to see what happens to the Faithless when they're handed down their punishment – you know how some of the Faithless that have been executed have no graves? We're going to find out where High Priest Elm places the bodies. Do you want to come with us?"

"Somehow, I don't think I have a choice." Even if she refused, Silver would still find a way to involve people in his schemes. She glanced at Ethan, a teasing grin on her face. "And you agreed to this? I would've thought you would've had more sense since Elm is your father."

Ethan frowned. "Don't look at me; it was Silver's idea."

"I thought we were a team, Ethan. Show me some support," Silver replied. Ethan rolled his eyes. "Don't worry Lyra; we're going to ask Falkner to patrol the pathway to the main gates and stop anyone from coming through. We'll be fine!" Silver added a triumphant smirk on his face.

Celebrate Lyra's birthday by embarking on a forbidden exploration trip in the Temple of the High Priests. It sounded like a fun idea, but Ethan knew they were crossing a dangerous line…. Still, a part of him longed for some adventure – staying within the walls of Madari could only provide entertainment for so long before it became dull and boring.

"Well... all right then..."

"Excellent! I know just where to find Falkner!" He winked.

"And where is that exactly?"

Silver rubbed his hands together. "The Paws and Claws! The best tavern in Madari!"

Ethan sighed. This was going to be interesting.

.

Soldiers on a break from patrol spent their time within the Paws and Claws indulging themselves in alcohol until they could barely stand. Even the commander of the militia could not resist the alcohol. The tavern was located just east of the main market stalls and south of the Temple of Healing. It was distinguished by the two statues of a Staraptor and Mightyena in front of the front doorway. Silver led the way down the hill and towards the tavern. Thankfully, it took less than fifteen minutes to reach the place.

As Ethan approached the tavern, the scent of alcohol filled his nose. He flared his nostrils. Horrible stench. "There he is," Silver said, pointing to a blue-haired male slouched over a desk, his snores filling the air. The boy's glass had fallen over, and the ale was now all over the floor in a big puddle. The boy was a commander of the forces of Madari as identified by his silver scale mail, but right now he looked like a low-class peasant.

Silver cackled at the sight of the broken bottles. "Seems like Falkner has been drinking more than he can take again," he commented. Militia members were known for their heavy drinking habits. It was a wonder why the law had not forbidden drinking yet. He hurried to Falkner's side and poked him. "Wake up Falkner."

Falkner groaned and slowly opened his eyes. Two blurred figures stood over him watching with interest. "Who's that?" he asked, his voice slurred. He tried to reach down for his weapon, but couldn't quite find it. "...What do you want from me?"

"Falkner, it's Silver. Ethan and Lyra are here as well. We need your help."

Upon hearing the familiar names, Falkner jolted from his seat and almost toppled over. "Silver! Ethan!" he said.

Ethan nodded. "Long night at the tavern?" The stain on Falkner's cloth beneath the scale mail made it obvious he had enjoyed himself. "You've got a stain there..." Ethan said, pointing at the wet spot.

Falkner glanced down and mumbled. Usually he wore his armour with pride, but one night at the tavern and he was a mess. He fixed his appearance hastily before turning his attention back on his friends. "What can I do for you?"

"We're going to explore the Temple of the High Priests and we need someone to patrol the main road and ensure no one follows us. Can you do that for us? It's for Lyra's birthday," Silver said. Falkner would not refuse; especially since Silver could use his drunken state as blackmail in the future.

Falkner nodded. "Sure thing." He yawned loudly. "Can you pass me my sword?" he asked.

Ethan bent down on his knees and picked up the sword underneath the chair Falkner had been sitting on. "You should be more careful with your possessions Falkner, someone might steal them."

"Just don't tell anyone where I have been okay? I don't want the High Priests finding out, they might disown me," he said.

"Just do your job; patrol. Easily done Falkner," Silver said, clapping Falkner on the back. "We'll see you later then. Just remember... make sure no one comes otherwise I will tell Elm what you have been doing," he threatened. Falkner nodded and staggered towards the main path. Silver smirked. "That went well."

"Was threatening him really necessary Silver?" Ethan asked.

Silver frowned. "Of course, it's Falkner," he replied, as if that justified everything. As they advanced towards the temple, Ethan noticed how the temple towered above all other buildings in the city. There were six parts to the temple, each made out of limestone to last time. The walls of the pylon were decorated with carved and painted scenes of their deities and obelisks and large statues were built in front of the large gate.

Ethan glanced over his shoulder ensuring no one else was around before venturing towards the large gate. Lyra stood close to Ethan's side, gripping his arm. "Something doesn't feel right about this place," she whispered.

Silver gave her a sideways glance. "Aren't you used to being around temples?"

She nodded. "I spend my time within the walls of the Temple of Healing, Silver. The temple we are about to explore is home to the High Priests. Only they are allowed within the walls." She shuddered again unable to shake off the feeling of fear.

Ethan placed a comforting hand on her shoulder. "We're just exploring Lyra, nothing bad will happen." Lyra nodded and decided to keep her fears to herself. Both males were intent on exploring the place and she didn't want them to regret taking her along.

They walked through the large gates and into the courtyard. The outer walls showed scenes of the High Priests in battle while the inner walls showed the High Priests making offerings to Arceus. No one actually knew what Arceus looked like, but he was often portrayed as a horse with a curved single horn atop of his head.

The only time people were allowed to enter the courtyard was on festival days otherwise the place remained vacant. Silver nudged Ethan gently in the ribs. "Remember last year?"

Ethan nodded. "How could I forget? You were on the ground, face first in the dirt after you were caught stealing a pouch of gold coins from the noble woman, Cynthia." Every year, High Priest Elm would invite the four richest noble families in the region to attend the grand banquet – Cynthia was a descendant of a long line of scholars who had become infamous for creating the alphabet. She looked like she was a descendant of the deities herself, with long flowing blonde curls, intense grey eyes and a slim figure.

"I still don't know how she caught me… it never happens," Silver muttered.

"Well, you _were _trying to kiss her," Ethan pointed out. Silver had drunk a fair bit that night and was a little more daring than he normally was. In his normal state of mind, he would never pursue a woman older than himself. Fortunately, the woman hadn't called him out for his behaviour – she simply took her pouch back and gave him such a look, Ethan thought that even Arceus would freeze in his tracks.

"Do you think we'll ever see her again?" Silver stroked his chin looking thoughtful.

"If she does, I'm sure she'll remember your ugly face and avoid you," Lyra teased.

"You're hilarious Lyra," Silver replied. "Are you sure you're in the right career? Perhaps you should've become the temple jester instead." Ethan snickered, earning an accusing look from Lyra. He ceased his laughter, and turned his attention towards the temple grounds instead. He had been in here just once before – his father had taken him in when he learned how to walk and that was only to show him the statue of the one true God, Arceus.

Although it had been many years since last stepping inside the temple grounds, not a single thing had been changed. It wasn't long before they reached the hypostyle hall. Unlike the courtyard, the hall had a roof connected to the ground by columns. Small windows cut into the roof provided the only source of light.

They exited the hypostyle hall and entered the next section of the temple, the second hall. "Ugh, another dark room," Silver commented snidely. "Don't these people know how to make windows?" Ethan and Lyra ignored Silver, their attention on the carvings in the walls, where more carvings of the High Priests and Arceus were found.

"I have never seen so many carvings before," Ethan commented.

Silver shuddered. "I feel like being watched."

Finally, they entered the final room of the temple. The complete darkness of the sanctuary only increased the curiosity of Silver and Ethan, but Lyra remained fearful. "I guess this is where the criminals are taken to be punished," Silver remarked.

"Why do you say that?" Ethan asked.

Silver pointed to the middle of the room at a large statue of the Giratina, the God of the Dead. Giratina was said to be banished by Arceus for disobeying an order, and therefore was thrown down into what was considered the 'Underworld'. Many Arceus followers called him the Grim Reaper because of his association with the dead and dying. His symbol was that of two dragon wings – one was turned up, and the other had its tip facing downwards. "Punish the criminals right before Arceus himself..." he muttered.

"Where do you think they keep the criminals? I don't see any entrances to dungeons or jail bars anywhere," Ethan commented with a slight shrug of the shoulders. He turned to face Lyra and was surprised to see her skin pale. "Lyra?" he asked concerned.

Lyra raised a trembling finger and pointed to the far end of the room. Ethan and Silver followed her gaze and noticed an altar in the middle of a circle lit up by candles. "I can't believe we didn't notice that before," Silver commented, "but why an altar?"

"Let's see what we can find," Ethan replied. He edged towards the altar with caution, Silver and Lyra following directly behind him. As he drew closer, the unmistakable scent of a decomposing body filled his nostrils.

"Oh gods..." Lyra muttered, holding a hand over her mouth.

Ethan's eyes widened at the sight before him. A body of a human female lay on the ground behind the altar. He noticed there were no scratches or bruises on her at all, except for a deep cut where the heart was. He fell to his knees and examined the body closer looking for more clues. He noticed the bite marks on her arms and legs and felt a nauseous feeling in his stomach. Rats. "These people are killed..." Ethan mumbled.

"That explains why we never see these people again... and why only the High Priests are allowed in here," Silver commented. "Do you... do you think they were alive when their hearts were taken out?" The smirk on his face before had faded. The thought of watching as the blade pierced the flesh above the heart sickened him. At least the dead could feel no pain.

"I feel sick..." Lyra said, hunching over. Ethan stood up from the corpse and held Lyra. "Can we please leave?" she asked, glancing up at Ethan with fearful eyes.

Leaving was a sound plan and Ethan did not hesitate to flee. As the three exited the sanctuary, they heard the sounds of footsteps and voices talking. Ethan froze. "What do we do now?!" Silver asked urgently.

"We have to hide! We'll hide behind the columns in the sanctuary and pray the darkness hides us from watchful eyes," Ethan replied. The thought of staying longer in the room with the decomposing body repulsed him, but he saw no other choice. Escaping now would be futile. Ethan led his friends back to the sanctuary. Without wasting another thought, he hid behind the north-western column. He steadied his breathing and waited for the High Priests to enter.

Dressed in dark robes with the symbol of Arceus emblazoned on the back of their cloths, Ethan spotted his father enter the room. Beside him, was a man dressed in the same coloured robes, but bore a symbol of Giratina instead. He was suspicious – why in the holy name of Arceus would his father walk in the presence with someone who followed the banished deity? Perhaps he had asked for assistance to help a condemned Faithless pass onto the next world.

The light provided by the candles allowed Ethan to identify Elm was carrying a body in his arms. The body belonged to that of a young male whom he recognized as Bugsy. He recognized him only because Silver had asked to use a couple of bugs from the male to play pranks on people. Elm dropped the male on the floor without care at all then placed a well-aimed kick at his head causing the boy to scream.

"You have defied the laws of Arceus and therefore must pay the ultimate price of death, Bugsy. Your service to the militia of Madari ends today," Elm spoke. "High Priest Colress has arrived here to assist in your passing to the next world to ensure your spirit remains trapped there."

They placed Bugsy on the altar and Ethan watched as Bugsy tried to free himself from their iron grip hold. "Do not struggle young Bugsy, this is what Arceus predicted would happen," Colress added, drawing out a dagger.

"I served the military for more than fifteen years faithfully!" Bugsy raged, tears streaming down his face. "I do not deserve to die for disobeying one of the laws!" he spat. The laws were not just. Breaking a law did not equate to death! A second chance should be granted! "I deserve a second chance; please have mercy on my soul!"

A violent strike to the face silenced Bugsy's maddened cries for mercy. Colress brought the dagger closer to Bugsy's chest and dangled it before his eyes. "Do you know what this is?" he asked, one eyebrow raised.

Bugsy swallowed a mouthful of air. "A dagger," he replied.

Colress shook his head. "The dagger represents the curved horn on Arceus's head – it was said Arceus threw Giratina down into the Underworld with the horn. It has been used for many decades punishing the Faithless for their crimes." He gently traced a finger against the silver blade. "To allow entrance into the realm of the dead, Giratina demands a simple sacrifice – your heart." Before Bugsy could react, Colress brought the blade down.

Ethan cringed as Bugsy's bloodcurdling scream echoed throughout the halls. He closed his eyes hoping to block out the terrifying image from his mind, but the screams could not be blocked. Death came fast and the room fell silent. Elm discarded Bugsy's lifeless body onto the ground, grabbed the heart and stood before the shrine. He mumbled a few words under his breath, held out his hands and waited for a reaction. A bright light erupted from the shrine and the heart in Elm's hands disappeared. "It is done," Colress commented. "We should leave."

Elm nodded. Both High Priests turned to leave the sanctuary when Lyra vomited onto the stone floor. The High Priests stopped and exchanged glances. Elm held up his hands in the air and muttered an incantation under his breath. A strange creature in the shape of a fanged, black scaled serpent materialized before Elm. The serpent creature towered above its master, waiting in eager anticipation for its order. "Someone has breached the walls of the temple, they must be found," Elm ordered. The serpent creature hissed and immediately scouted the area searching.

It was time to leave. Ethan was willing to face the consequences of his actions, even if he died in the attempt. Lyra would not die. It was his fault for allowing Silver to invite Lyra, and not doing anything to convince her otherwise. He promised he would always protect her. "RUN!" he screamed. He did not care about Colress and Elm. His father was not the man he assumed he was. Had the entire Circle been built upon a lie? Silver and Lyra bolted from their hiding place and pushed past the two surprised High Priests. Ethan followed them close behind when the serpent creature appeared before them.

The serpent opened his mouth and gobs of purple venom flew towards Lyra. With a shout, Ethan threw himself at Lyra and tackled her out of harm's way. The serpent hissed again, bearing its fangs. Hissing, the serpent prepared to strike. Elm rushed forwards and held up his hand. "What is the meaning of this Ethan?!" Elm shouted disbelief on his face.

A wave of fury rushed through Ethan. "You're killing innocent people!" he screamed, unable to control himself. For years he had lived by the Three Laws and served his father with respect and love. He never openly expressed his doubt of the laws, and often helped the guards find the heathens hiding within their walls. "You told me the Faithless were kept behind bars for a period of years!" Ethan spat pointing his finger at his grandfather, his eyes burning with accusation.

Elm sighed. "You disappoint me Ethan. If you were anyone else, I would have you punished severely for sneaking around the temple and spying on us. But alas, I cannot for you are the only remaining family I have."

Ethan tightened his jaw. "I will never become you."

Elm closed his eyes as if accepting a dire fate. "Then I have no choice but to ban you from returning to Madari. You must leave immediately otherwise I will be forced to change my mind." He opened his eyes again gazing at Ethan with sad eyes. "One day our reasons for the sacrifices will make sense to you. I am sorry Ethan." He turned his intense gaze towards Silver and Lyra. "You are to leave immediately. Consider yourselves lucky." Ethan dared not to speak further – words would be wasted here. Without turning back, Ethan led his friends towards the city gates.

**.**

The story will pick up – we're still in the early stages, and I promise, it will get better! These chapters are revised editions of earlier versions of the story, but they'll be completely new in a few chapters time. Once the story is finished, I'll go back and edit it [I do know the ending of this chapter was a little abrupt, and there are probably a few typos], but for now, they will suffice. Reviews are much appreciated, as always!


	3. Outcast

**Disclaimer**

The rights to Pokemon do not belong to me

**Title**

Master of Shadows

**Summary**

A dark evil has arisen, threatening to sunder the fragile peace of the region. Ethan and his friends are forced to embark on a journey to unearth the truth while a war between different religious factions begins. Little does Ethan know, his actions will impact the lives of everyone around him.

**Special Thanks**

Thanks to Lord Agravane the Undead for reviewing the previous chapter! These early chapters are edited drafts of an old fantasy story I had many years ago – there have been a few slight edits and such, but it's mostly been kept the same. Later chapters will be more up-to-date with my current style.

**.**

**Chapter Three: Outcast**

Life outside the safe walls of Madari was a tough one and few survived the untamed wilderness of the desert. Once outside the walls of Madari mortals were vulnerable to the hot desert harsh wind. Grains of sand, carried by the wind, caught in Ethan's clothing and hair. He shielded his eyes as another powerful gust brushed against him. "Are you both all right?" he asked.

"My eyes," Silver replied. "We need to find shelter before the wind claims us," he added.

Ethan agreed with Silver's suggestion, but where could they find shelter? Glancing over his shoulder, he scanned the environment, hoping to find something they could use for protection against the harsh unforgiving desert. Unfortunately, there was nothing in sight. All he could see was a plain of sand with a few dunes to the far north. "There's no shelter," Ethan replied.

Lyra grabbed onto his arm. "What are we going to do, Ethan?" she asked, glancing up at him with worried eyes. "I don't want to die," she added.

"We're not going to die," he said, hoping he sound confident to her ears because he didn't feel it inside. Surely, there had to be some form of shelter? As they searched for shelter, a shadow crossed their paths. Ethan arched his neck backwards and glanced up at the hazy sky. A black bird with a hooked yellow beak circled high above them cawing. Its beady dark eyes focused on Ethan and his friends. "What is that?!" Silver said.

Ethan followed his gaze. "It's a bird, Silver."

"Not just any bird Ethan," Lyra spoke.

"What do you mean?"

Lyra took in a deep breath. "I've heard about them while I was treating a young man in the temple. They're called Murkrows, though in tales they were known as Flesh Reapers. They eat flesh of living mortals," she explained. A shudder ran down her spine. "They watch mortals doomed to die," she added. Ethan searched for a weapon in his clothing, but Lyra rested a hand on his arm. She looked up at the bird. "They can't be killed."

"They can't be killed?" he repeated, ceasing his search for a weapon. "How do we fight them off?"

Lyra shook her head. "They were called reapers for a reason, Ethan."

"Never thought I'd ever be scared of a bird before..." he mumbled, shuddering. The bird cawed again and flapped its wings ascending into the sky. "That bird won't be eating me." Ethan continued to look at the bird before turning his attention back to the ground level. He led them in a random direction and hoped it would take them to shelter. Unfortunately, there was no shelter. Instead, they came across a group of decomposing corpses.

"By the Gods..." Lyra gasped. A group of five children lay in a circle. A strange bitter scent filled Ethan's nostrils. It wasn't the scent of someone that had died of natural causes. Something else was at work here. He approached the bodies with Silver. Lyra pinched her nose and stood back as the two boys examined the bodies of the dead children.

"They have no faces..." Silver murmured. "What in the hells is this?" he asked aloud. Each child's face had melted away leaving only dry skin behind. Only the hair remained on the head. There were no cuts or bruises on the bodies that would indicate homicide. "No cuts, no bruises. I know one thing for sure; no human could have done this."

Ethan bent over a young girl and touched her face. The dry skin turned to ash at his touch. Ethan jerked his hand back surprised, but regained his composure. Upon further examination, he noticed strange markings on her arms. He brought his face closer. A symbol consisting of a sword constricted by demon-like wings and claws caught his eye. "A human practicing necromancy could however," Ethan replied.

"Necromancy?" Silver repeated.

Ethan nodded. "Do you remember the tales the High Priests told us when we were young?" The vacant expression on Ethan's face told him Silver could not remember. He sighed and tried to recall the words Elm used. "Necromancers were once normal mortal men – they lived in grand cities and served the High Priests wholeheartedly; the thought of rebelling against them never crossed their minds," he started.

"So they are like us basically?" Silver questioned.

Ethan scratched the back of his ear, rubbing away some sand grains before continuing. "However, one man decided he had enough of the High Priests and sought to find answers to destroy them and end their tyranny. The man escaped his hometown and fled into the desert. Many believed the man had perished, but the scouts could not find the remains of his body anywhere." If the stories were true it was possible for a human to survive. "The scouts resigned the mission and headed back home."

Silver frowned. "Let me guess, the man was secretly a wizard?"

Ethan shook his head. "No... although a body couldn't be found, the man did die. The rise in numbers of Flesh Reapers in the sky nearby their kingdom confirmed their suspicions. The High Priests decided his body had been eaten by the birds and the bones were simply covered by layers of sand." He forced a laugh. "They couldn't be further from the truth."

"What happened next?" Lyra asked.

Ethan brushed some sand out of his hair before continuing. "It is said the man was resurrected by the Gods for his years of service, but cursed with a nomadic lifestyle for his betrayal. The banished deity, Giratina was said to have intervened and gave the man immortality, the power to destroy things at whim and control the dead. Resurrected and vengeful, the man headed home and tried to use his newfound power against the High Priests."

A thought occurred to him. Were they destined to become necromancers themselves? The similarities between the man and himself were uncanny. His thoughts were interrupted by a snicker from Silver. Turning his head, Ethan gave his friend a quizzical look, waiting for an explanation. This was no laughing matter. "What's so funny?"

Silver shook his head. "It doesn't matter."

Unfortunately, Silver was quite transparent. "You actually want to become a necromancer?" Lyra asked. "Why would you want to be like that?" she added, disgusted.

"Control over the dead, just imagine the pranks you could pull," he said, a wicked grin crossing his features.

"It doesn't work that way Silver," Ethan replied, spoiling his fun. "When the man was resurrected, he was given a mission – destroy the High Priests."

"Why would Giratina want the High Priests destroyed though?" Lyra asked, stroking her chin.

"Think about it, Lyra. The High Priests serve Arceus," he said. Well, they did, he thought, reflecting on the recent events that had taken place in the temple. The Circle had become involved in the affairs of the banished God and its followers and he wasn't sure why they had formed such an alliance. "Why _wouldn't_ Giratina want the Circle destroyed?"

She rubbed her chin then nodded. "Fair point."

Ethan continued. "The necromancer failed to destroy the High Priests and was shunned from the kingdom for life. It's said he roams the desert searching for answers," Ethan said, finishing the legend. He glanced over his shoulder looking in the direction of Madari. A feeling of loss overcame him. He would not return. "Of course, this necromancer could simply be a wild mage running riot purposefully invoking fear into people by pretending to be a necromancer." Elm did not believe in necromancy; to him, it was just stories. Wild mages however, did exist and their methods of dealing with people were similar to this. But Ethan was not like Elm. Recent events had confirmed that. Anything was possible now.

"So you don't think it's a wild mage?" Silver said. Wild mages, also known as the pagan followers, summoned creatures of the wild to help them attack their victims and temporarily stun them. Once stunned, the wild mage would draw a symbol, usually one of their animal companions and place the victims in a circle.

"They don't have faces Silver. Wild mages always leave the face behind," Ethan replied. "And that marking is one of necromancy."

"How can you tell?"

"It's one of the markings of death," Ethan replied. "We better leave." Being around decomposing bodies unnerved him. The sooner they left the bodies the better he would feel. As they walked along more desert sand, they came across another group of bodies. Ethan believed they were dead until one of the bodies moved. "That one is still alive!"

They approached the bodies and noticed the only female, a girl with pink hair and pale white skin, was still breathing. The girl coughed slightly and forced herself up in a sitting position. Lyra rushed to her side and held her up. She placed a hand on the girl's chin and gently tipped it up. "Hello? Can you hear me?" she asked.

The girl's eyelids fluttered open. Her reaction was immediate. She spit in Lyra's eyes temporarily blinding her as she hurried to her feet. Silver lunged at the girl, but she evaded his tackle. Ethan charged and threw himself at the girl before she could get away. His tackle made contact and he brought her to the ground. "We're not here to harm you!" Ethan shouted.

The girl winced at the sound of his voice. "I will not return!" she hissed, baring her teeth.

"Return?" Ethan asked. "Did you flee your kingdom?" The tattered remains of her clothing made him wonder if she was an escaping slave.

"That is none of business!" She tried to force Ethan off her, but her crippled physical state weakened her.

Ethan refused to move. She was the only remaining person alive in the group of dead bodies. How had she survived? What were they attacked by? He was hoping she could provide him with answers and possibly with information to survive. "What happened to your friends?" he said.

Her muscles relaxed, but her eyes were wide alert. If Ethan showed any form of weakness, she would attack and flee. "We were running from bad men. Bad men use swords and bows. We were killed one by one. I pretend to be dead and bad men leave me alone," she said.

"What is your name?"

"Whitney."

"Whitney, why were these men chasing you?"

Her fragile body trembled. "Slave masters," she whimpered, struggling to speak. A stray tear travelled down her pale, bloodied cheek. "They from Madari."

Ethan's eyes widened at the mention of his birth town. Madari. This is how slaves were captured? Beaten almost to death and captured when they were weakened? Dark emotions of anger and hate rushed through his mind. He tightened his hold on the girl's shoulder, not realizing he was hurting her. It was until the girl screamed he noticed the hurt in her eyes. "I'm... I'm sorry."

"I tell you who I am, you tell me about you."

Could he tell her the truth about who he was? The girl feared the people of Madari. He closed his eyes and considered being honest. "I... I am from Madari," he said, opening his eyes again.

"You... from Madari?" Realization the man was from the same place as the slave masters sunk in. She lunged forwards and sunk her teeth into Ethan's arm. Ethan screamed and fell backwards. Whitney struggled to her feet and pointed at him, eyes burning with hatred. "You are one of the bad men!" she rasped.

Ethan picked himself up from the sandy ground and held his hands up in defence. "I am from Madari, yes but I am not a slave master. I'm the son of High Priest Elm," he said. His words seemed to further agitate the girl. He walked forwards with caution.

"Do not come near me evil one!" she said, taking a step back.

Ethan halted. "Evil one? I am not affiliated with the people who enslaved you."

"You are worse," she hissed, through clenched teeth.

Her words struck a nerve and Ethan found himself unable to speak. Had he been so blinded by Elm's teachings he had not seen how other people less fortunate then himself suffered? "Why do you hate the High Priests so much?" He darted a quick glance at Silver and Lyra. Both had recovered and were watching with wide eyes.

"Are you so blind you cannot see the pain the High Priests have inflicted upon us all?" she spoke. "Your laws have spread across the desert to the north-eastern kingdom of Khakpour to the southern trading villages of Aduri," she added.

"You are from Aduri?" Aduri was the main kingdom of the southern regions of the desert, home to many noble families, including Cynthia, and her grandmother, the Queen. It was said to be a beautiful kingdom built around an oasis.

Whitney nodded. "The laws of Madari have spread like a vile disease. Queen Carolina has taken upon to condemning the Faithless to a life outside the kingdom to perish in the desert. Once Aduri was a peaceful kingdom devoid of any laws and now everyday innocent people are being sentenced to an undeserving death." She wiped away tears from her eyes. "Do you see now why I despise your people?" Her voice was filled with pain, torment and sadness.

"I am truly sorry for the pain you have suffered and if I could, I would change the laws of Madari," he said. The screams of Bugsy played in his mind. "I've seen with my own eyes the cruel ways of our people," he added.

"Then you know they must be stopped."

"But how? I can't turn against my own father."

Whitney closed her eyes. "Then the world is doomed." Ethan struggled to think of a response, but Whitney's attention was elsewhere. Her eyes were wide open with fear; she turned to Ethan and raised a finger in the air calling for silence. "Did you hear that?" Ethan closed his eyes and strained his hearing. The faint sounds of running camels reached his ears. "The slave masters have returned!" She uttered a cry.

"Silver! Lyra! Prepare to stand your ground!" Ethan ordered.

Silver's mouth dropped open in shock. "Stand our ground? Are you mad? We must flee!" Better to die at the mercy of the desert rather than be killed by an old friend.

Ethan shook his head. "Surge will not harm us. He is not taking Whitney back to Madari." In the corner of his eye, he could see Surge's approaching form and noticed he had come alone. Ethan's posture relaxed. Perhaps he could reason with Surge to free Whitney. He stood attentively waiting for Surge to collect Whitney.

Surge's camel raced towards them and came to an immediate halt. The tall blond slave master climbed off his camel and drew out his sword. The man didn't even need a weapon to cause harm – his bulging arm muscles were weapons themselves. He advanced towards Whitney, pointing the tip of his sword at her. Ethan stood in front of Whitney and stretched his arms to the sides to protect her. "Ethan, I heard you were banished. I didn't think it was true, but here you are," Surge said. "Step aside Ethan. You might be an outcast now, but you know just as well as I do runaway slaves must be punished." He swung his sword and grinned at the fear on Whitney's face.

"I'm not letting you take her away back to Madari, Surge," Ethan replied through clenched teeth.

Surge turned his sword to point at Ethan. "Your words have no meaning here Ethan. You are banished and your status as son of a High Priest means nothing." He smirked.

Silver tried to negotiate with Surge. "Surge, my old friend. We mean you no harm, we're outcasts after all." Lyra nudged Silver hard in the ribs. Silver glared at Lyra. "Well we are!" he defended.

"Surge, think about what you are doing. This girl is innocent and she deserves to be spared," Ethan argued. He knew he was playing a dangerous game here, but what else did he have to lose? He was an outcast, his status stripped from him. Death no longer mattered. "Or are you blinded by the laws of our people like I once was?" Surge's expression did not change and that confirmed what Ethan already knew. Surge was nothing more but a heartless, ruthless servant of the High Priests... just like he once was.

"Has this slave poisoned your mind against your people?" Surge demanded. He moved forward and placed the tip of the sword at Ethan's vulnerable throat. "The laws protect us and if we obey we will join Arceus when we die. If we disobey..." he made a cutting motion with his free hand. "...Then we die. That is the way of our people."

Ethan tightened his jaw. "Then you are a fool."

"Ethan..." Silver warned. Back within the walls of Madari, both he and Ethan were two of the strongest swordsmen. Outside the walls and lacking any form of equipment to defend, they were as weak as any peasant. A fight with Surge, a fully armed slave master, would only end in a fatality.

Surge smirked, his eyes glowing like black fire. "You wish to challenge me to a fight? Are you aware you have no means of defending yourself?" Ethan remained silent. Surge shrugged, uncaring. "If you wish to die then who am I do deny your wish?" He drew back his sword and prepared to drive it through Ethan's throat.

"There is no reason to fight!" Whitney cried, pushing Ethan aside. "I will come back with you to Madari and face whatever fate awaits me." She hung her head low and Ethan knew death awaited her. He tried to think of a way to stop her from surrendering herself, but without a weapon he could do nothing. Helpless, he watched Surge grab her arm and led her to the camel.

"That wasn't so hard was it?" Surge drawled, mocking the beaten slave girl.

Whitney climbed onto the camel and looked at Ethan. Her eyes did not reveal defeat, only shining hope and grit determination. "There is hope with you," she spoke in a voice just above a whisper. Surge slapped her in the face silencing her. Without saying goodbye, Surge rode his camel back towards Madari. Defeated, Ethan slumped to the ground.

Once Surge had faded from sight, Lyra knelt down beside Ethan. "There was nothing you could do to save her."

Ethan grabbed her hand and kissed it softly. "I have been so blind." It was hard to believe he had once been a mindless servant of the High Priests. Ever since birth, he had been blessed with money and power. He had not cared at all for the people in poverty or for the slaves. The poor deserved to be poor for they were weak. It was a lesson Elm had taught him.

"You didn't know... none of us knew," Lyra assured him.

"While I enjoyed the best of everything, other people were suffering at the hands of my father," Ethan said, turning his head aside to look at Lyra. "I'm sorry for bringing you into this." What would Madari do now without one of their best healers? Lyra actually cared for her patients unlike the other healers there.

"Do not apologize, Ethan. I would've come with you anyway, even if I hadn't been there at the temple. You do not see it, but you are a man of honour and valour. You have shown bravery in the face of fear where most would surrender. You were willing to risk your life to protect a slave girl who hated our people," Lyra added.

"You should both be thanking me for inviting you both to investigate the temple," Silver said.

Ethan fought the urge to roll his eyes. Naturally Silver had to bring attention to himself. "I suppose we should probably get moving," he said, pointing up at the sky. Dark threatening clouds billowed on the horizon. The clouds brightened for a split second followed by the faint sounds of thunder. "I don't want to be standing in the middle of nowhere out in the open when that storm hits, do you?"

"We should head to Aduri then," Silver said.

"Are you hoping to find Cynthia?" Ethan asked, a hint of a smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth.

Silver faked a hurt gasp. "Of course not, what would make you think that?" He grinned. Would Cynthia even recognize him? "Besides, I don't think we'd even be allowed within the kingdom. Whitney said the laws of Madari had spread far and wide and maybe word of our banishment will spread that far as well."

"That's not exactly a good thing, we'll never be able to find a place to call home," Ethan replied.

"I refuse to die in the desert," Silver said.

"We have no food, we have no water and we don't have weapons to defend ourselves from possible dangers. There is no shelter around in sight and there is a storm fast approaching. I just don't see how we can... survive," Ethan said, shoulders slumped. There was still so much to do, still so much to live for. His friends depended on him for their survival. The thought of failing them hurt him, but how were they going to overcome this obstacle?

He refused to look at his friends and instead looked at the endless miles of desert around him. The Murkrow circled high above cawing loudly. It sensed a feast approaching. Ethan's vision blurred and surrounding noises faded. He saw both Lyra and Silver screaming at him, but he couldn't hear. "Everything is going to be all right," he said. Then darkness. It was as if all the lights in the world had all turned off. He was blind and falling. Falling into a realm of darkness.

.

More characters will be introduced in the next chapter! I hope you're finding this somewhat enjoyable to read! Reviews are much appreciated, as always!


	4. A Greater Purpose

**Disclaimer**

The rights to Pokemon do not belong to me

**Title**

Master of Shadows

**Summary**

A dark evil has arisen, threatening to sunder the fragile peace of the region. Ethan and his friends are forced to embark on a journey to unearth the truth while a war between different religious factions begins. Little does Ethan know, his actions will impact the lives of everyone around him.

**Special Thanks**

Thanks to TGR83 for reviewing the previous chapter! Thanks to everyone who has shown the faith by having this story on their favourites or alerts list as well!

**.**

**Chapter Four: A Greater Purpose**

Barry winced as pain shot down through his arm temporarily paralysing him. For several days now he had worked hard on menial labour carrying large stones and carving them into symbols of Arceus. The stone weighed a little less than half the average body weight of a healthy grown man. It was difficult work, but as a slave he was not allowed to take breaks. The rays of the hot sun burned into his back turning the skin a dangerous shade of red. If the work didn't kill him he was sure the heat would.

His thoughts were interrupted by the protests of another slave. His name was Brendan; a young male with brown hair and matching eyes. The large sandstone fell out of his hands and onto the ground. The guards rushed over to him and forced him to his feet. "Get back to work you pathetic excuse for a human!" The first of the guards spat aiming a well placed kick at Brendan's left ribcage.

Brendan whimpered and struggled to stand. His knees wobbled and he fell to the ground again. His weary body could not be supported by his equally tired legs. One of the guards brought out a whip and lashed the weapon at his bare back. Brendan's face contorted with pain. "Please... have mercy..." he said. He arched his neck backwards and stared up at the darkened sky.

"Arceus does not listen to filth," the guard said, a wicked sneer on his cruel features. Brendan wiped away a tear from his eye and once again forced himself up from the ground. "Pick up the stone and continue your job, slave." The guard pointed to the stone Brendan had dropped. Brendan nodded and limped to the stone. He bent over and wrapped his arms around the stone and tried to pick it up, but his physical strength had left him. He collapsed against the surface of the stone.

Barry turned away unable to watch another slave suffer. The pain was unbearable, even more so than receiving the hooked claws at the end of the whip. He wrapped a hand around his amulet and closed his eyes. It was an amulet of Xerneas, and simply touching it made him feel warm inside. There was still hope. There was always a light in the darkness. A forbidden tear rolled down his pallid cheek. He wiped it away.

"Get your hands off me!"

Barry's eyes snapped open and he jerked his head behind him. His eyes were drawn to the large figure of the slave master, Surge, holding the arm of a pink-haired girl with an iron tight grip. The girl struggled to free herself from hold, but her attempts proved futile. Surge slapped her in the face and threw her to the ground. "You dare issue me orders?" Surge demanded, towering over the poor cowering girl.

She bared her teeth and hissed at him, but spoke no further. Satisfied, Surge picked the girl up in his arms and brought her to Barry's position. He dropped her on to the hot sand. "This boy," he said, darting his eyes in Barry's direction, "will tell you what needs to be done." Surge left the girl and walked over to examine the condition of Brendan.

Barry looked at the girl with sympathy. She was young, and by the looks of it only a year younger than himself. "What is your name?" he asked.

"Whitney," she said.

"Where are you from?"

"Aduri."

His eyes widened. "I am from Khakpour."

She was equally surprised. "I had thought there were no more survivors."

Shaking his head, Barry brushed his shoulders removing dirt. "I was one of the lucky ones that escaped from death," he said. "The slave master, Surge took me in and forced me into slavery." His hands clutched at his amulet. "This amulet is the only item I have that reminds me of home."

"I'm sorry."

"You don't need to apologize Whitney, but I thank you for your kind words." He removed his hands from his amulet and scratched his arm. "How did you end up here?"

"My friends and myself sought to leave Aduri and free ourselves from the tyranny of our Pharoah. We travelled far and wide searching for a new place to call home; a place untouched by the laws of Madari. Unfortunately, bad men found and tortured us." She hung her head, as if reflecting on the past. "We were brought here to serve. I escaped..." Her voice trembled. Her eyes blurred and a stray tear rolled down her pale cheek.

Barry brought a hand to her face and gently wiped it away. "You mustn't show a sign of weakness here; they will punish you harshly."

She grabbed Barry's arm and gripped it, tight enough to turn his skin red. She gazed deep into his eyes. "We must leave."

"Escape is impossible. Surge will only find us again." It wasn't a risk he was willing to take. He had to make the girl see some sense.

"These people continue to spread their corruption across the desert and many innocent people are dying because of these laws," Whitney said. "You must understand why we must leave." She took his hands with her own.

"And how do you propose we escape? Surge and the guards continue to watch us like Flesh Reapers." Barry removed his hands from Whitney. "I understand your concern but there is nothing we can do."

She shook her head. "You are wrong. There is hope. Hope rests with the one called Ethan. He is the son of the High Priest and only he can end this. He can set us free."

Barry noticed the hope shining in her eyes. He almost believed her. "I am sorry Whitney, but there is no such thing as hope and justice." It hurt him to speak such vile words to the girl, but she had to see the truth. The High Priests' grip on power increased with each day and no army could defeat and overthrow them. The seeds of corruption were planted and would continue to spread. Whitney pulled away from Barry and silently bowed her head.

.

"Ah, Commander Falkner, have you dropped by to examine the slaves?" Surge asked, casting Brendan aside into the arms of his guards. Brendan had reached his end. Madari had no use for weaklings. The guards took Brendan away from the slave camp.

Falkner drew out his sword and advanced towards the slaves. He pretended to hit one of the slaves with his sword and laughed loudly as the slave jumped backwards. "Pathetic," he said, a smirk on his face. "Greetings yourself Surge."

Surge clasped his hands together. "Are you looking to purchase a slave?" Military members were known for spending their coin on purchasing slaves to serve them privately.

Falkner shook his head. "No... I've come to inform you about the loss of Ethan." He was partly responsible for Ethan's banishment; he should've persuaded Ethan not to explore.

"I already know... I saw Ethan when I was hunting down a fleeing slave," Surge replied. He turned his head briefly in Whitney's direction. "You can purchase her if you want. She is a vicious one."

Falkner turned his head following Surge's gaze. His eyes fell on the girl. The corners of his mouth curved into a grin. "She's not bad on the eyes Surge, but she is terribly weak. Look at how frail she is." He pointed the sword at her highlighting the bruises and cuts on her arms. "She does not look like she will last more than a day out here."

Surge revealed the underside of his arm to Falkner. Teeth marks lined his skin. "I wish to get rid of her as soon as possible, the little devil bit me on the way back." He glared at Whitney only to receive a glare in response. "See how she looks at me?"

"You're scared of a mere slave girl?" Falkner said, clapping Surge on the shoulder. "Fine. I'll purchase her just to get her off your hands."

Surge sighed with relief. "That will be one thousand gold coins."

Falkner's eyebrows arched in response. "That is expensive Surge. She is not worth more than a gold coin for sure!"

"With proper care Whitney will become healthy." Although he didn't want the girl in prime condition, he didn't want her under his care either. There was something about the way she looked at him that sent a cold shudder of concern down his spine. It was ridiculous! Fear of a slave. He was a slave master! He could easily end her miserable life but something held him back. The way she had looked at Ethan before he took her to his camel... there was something about this girl that seemed unnatural.

"I'm not going to purchase a slave for a thousand gold coins," Falkner said, "I'd rather spend my hard earned coin at the tavern."

"But you always spend your hard earned coin at the tavern," Surge replied. "Every night I have to take you back to your home because you can't find it."

Falkner glared at the tall blond. He didn't like being reminded. "Surely you can lower the price for your friend?"

Surge sighed. "Alright... seven hundred gold coins."

"Five hundred."

"Four hundred and fifty."

"Two hundred and fifty."

"Two hundred and nothing less."

Falkner smirked. "Pleasure doing business with you Surge." He dug into his pocket and handed Surge the coin.

Surge mumbled under his breath. "I hope she bites you..." He walked to the shade and picked up a rope. "If the slave is disobedient simply tie this around her. You'll have control this way and she won't be able to escape." He handed the rope to Falkner and grabbed a whip. "And take this whip just in case she tries to bite you. You have to discipline these slaves and show them who is in control."

Falkner took the whip and rope from Surge and marched over to Whitney "I'm Falkner. You're coming with me now." He held out his hand for her to take. Whitney didn't move; only glared up at him. Falkner frowned. "I'm not a slave master, I'm the commander of the army here," he said.

"What are you planning to do with her?" Whitney's companion asked.

Falkner pointed the tip of his sword at the male slave. "Who is this rat?" He turned his nose up in disgust.

"You don't remember him? That's Barry, one of the survivors of Khakpour," Surge said, walking towards him. "He's actually a pretty good slave this one. Very obedient and gentle."

"Are you going to sell him?" Falkner asked looking at Surge thoughtfully.

Surge shook his head. "Don't bother trying to make a deal for this one Falkner. He's a rare slave; I doubt I'll ever find one like this again."

Falkner placed the tip of his sword on Barry's shoulder. "If you don't look after him better he's going to die. If he's as rare as you say I think I'd take better care of him." He pulled the sword away and turned his attention back on Whitney. "Come on girl, you are to come with me. That's an order from your new owner." Barry looked at Whitney apologetically and nodded. Whitney took Falkner's hand and helped herself up from the ground. "Thanks again Surge." Falkner waved his goodbyes and left with Whitney.

.

Once Falkner had left, Barry returned to his work. He walked over to pick up Brendan's stone under the watchful gaze of Surge. As he continued to work another citizen of Madari dropped by to pay Surge a visit. Barry glanced over his shoulder and noticed a male dressed in simple leather hide with a red sash around his waist. He moved towards Surge, flicking a strand of long green hair away from his eyes. "Ah N, I see you received my message," Surge said, holding out his hand.

N accepted Surge's handshake. "I came as quickly as I could." His eyes briefly flickered over to Barry before returning to Surge. "You said you wanted my services?"

"I've heard several people talk about your great skill with Zebstrika. I knew immediately I needed to speak with you." Surge turned his attention to Barry. "That's Barry, he was originally from Khakpour and now he's my top slave."

N glanced at Barry. "I see."

"I need your Zebstrika."

"My Zebstrika?" N asked, looking at Surge. "What do you need them for?"

"I wish to hold a new event of entertainment."

"What sort of entertainment?"

Surge's smirk widened. "Slave racing."

"Slave racing?"

Surge nodded. He rubbed his hands together gleefully. "The slaves will line up and the Zebstrika will chase them through the streets of Madari as the citizens place bets on which slave will survive the longest." He chuckled at the thought then added, "Don't worry about the slaves – we'll always hunt more down."

"You wish to put slaves in a blood sport to entertain the people?" N commented, and Barry caught a brief flicker of disgust in his eyes, but it faded as quickly as it had appeared.

"I know it sounds violent, but they are just slaves. Their lives are meaningless, it doesn't matter if one dies," Surge reasoned. "Surely you understand? You did, after all, come from a small town that used slaves." Surge knew his words struck a nerve with N.

Barry's knowledge of the outside world was vast – he knew all about the major kingdoms, and the locations of the major training villages and towns, and even knew where the slave camps were. This Zebstrika trainer must've come from Gabij, which was situated in the far north western part of the desert. Gabij residents were highly praised for their cavalry skills, but despised by his people for their cruelty towards slaves. It was rumoured Gabij residents often captured slaves so the Zebstrika riders could have something to aim for when practicing archery.

"I understand," N replied grimly. "I will give my Zebstrika to you."

Surge grinned. "Excellent. I expect the Zebstrika by sunset."

N glanced briefly again at Barry before leaving the area.

.

_He was lost, roaming around aimlessly in the desert bleeding onto the sand from his wounds. The battle had been fierce and some lives were lost. He clutched his severed arm and winced with pain. Surely death was coming soon. Blood loss would claim his life. He took several steps forward and desperately scanned his surroundings for a sign of his friends. "Lyra! Silver!" he called, but only the sound of the wind responded. _

_The wind increased in its intensity making it harder to see and hear. "Lyra! Silver!" he screamed again, his voice full of desperation. No response. Weakened, he fell to his knees. "I've failed you..." he said, glancing down his eyes squeezed shut. Lyra. His half-sister. Possibly dead. Silver. His best friend. Also possibly dead. It was his entire fault. He had the choice to flee, but he chose to fight. Why? _

_He opened his eyes and gasped. He was sinking in blood coloured sand and drowning. He struggled to swim but his weakened physical state made it impossible to free himself. "Help!" he cried. Soon he was covered in bloody sand, the bodies of the dead floating around him. He started to fade a lack of oxygen when a strong hand pulled him out. "Thank you... thank you for saving me..." he said, glancing up at his saviour._

_The face was hidden by a black hood. "It is not your time to die yet - you have much to do young Ethan." Although Ethan could not see the face, he knew from the tone of voice his saviour was male. _

"_How do you know my name?" _

"_How I know is meaningless to you and it will not aid you in the future."_

"_What are you talking about?"_

"_Severely wounded you might be, but you will not die – at least not in the way you mortals view death."_

"_I... I don't understand..." _

_The man pointed to the sky. "One of the Gods watches over you and has kept you alive for a purpose. How else do you think you have survived out here in the desert?" Ethan did not reply. He had wondered the same thing himself. "The fate of this world rests on your shoulders."_

"_The fate of this world...your... me..." Ethan repeated, trying to make sense of the words. "I am no hero."_

"_This is your destiny." The man removed his hood and pulled out a jewelled dagger. Before Ethan could react, the man plunged the knife into his stomach. Ethan screamed... _

"NOOOOO!" Ethan jolted in an upright sitting position eyes wide open with fear. His lungs burned, his muscles ached; it was as if he were there experiencing everything. He touched his arm and sighed with relief. His arm was in prime condition and not hanging lifelessly by a thread of skin.

"He's awake!" Lyra rushed to his side and hugged him. "You were gone for at least half an hour. Silver and I didn't know what to do," she said.

Silver raised an eyebrow. "Are you all right Ethan? You look like you've seen death."

"I died." Ethan leant forward and rubbed his face. It felt good to be alive.

"You fainted Ethan. That's not the same as dying," Silver said.

Lyra glared at Silver. "He knows that Silver."

Ethan picked himself up from the ground and looked down at his stomach. "I saw a scene play out in my mind." His hands trembled as parts of the scene played out in his mind.

"What do you mean? Like a vision or a dream?" Lyra asked, placing a comforting hand on Ethan's own.

"We had fought in a battle and lost terribly. I was alone... and severely wounded." He pointed to his left arm. "My arm was hanging by a thread," he said.

"And you died?" Silver asked. "I hope that's not a vision of what might happen in the future."

Ethan paced back and forwards, stroking his chin thoughtfully. "The sand turned to blood and I was drowning in it. A man saved me and pulled me out of the quicksand and told me that he has plans for me." Who was the man in his vision? One of the Gods speaking to him? Arceus? "He said one of the Gods watches over me keeping me alive to serve a greater purpose."

"Whoa, that is freaky," Silver commented. "Are you turning into a prophet or something?"

Ethan shook his head. "I don't know what happened Silver. For all I know it could simply be the heat playing games with my mind making me see things that aren't real," Ethan replied. "He told me I am to head south for answers and fulfil my destiny."

Lyra arched a worried eyebrow. "Destiny?"

Ethan shrugged. "I don't know what destiny he speaks of, but he did mention something about the fate of the world resting on my shoulders. I tried to ask for more information but... he killed me." He frowned. He remembered a jewelled dagger driving into his stomach and piercing through the flesh. He rubbed his stomach as if expecting to feel a wound, but he found nothing. "He stabbed me with his dagger... and then I woke up."

"Wait..." Silver raised his hands. "He killed you after telling you it's your destiny to save the world? That's just strange. Maybe the guy is simply a psycho." He shrugged and sat down on the ground. He quickly jumped to his feet. "Hot!"

"He said I would not die in the way mortals view death." It was a bizarre thing to say and Ethan wondered what it meant. Maybe Arceus was responding? "Do you think it's Arceus trying to communicate with me?" He frowned. Or perhaps it was another deity… That was an unsettling thought, and if proven true, would mean Arceus wasn't the only true God after all.

"By killing you in a vision?" Silver asked. "That's not exactly a good way of communicating with us." He shook his head removing grains of sand from his hair. "I don't think you should take much notice of it Ethan, it probably is just the heat playing tricks and making you mad." He grinned widely.

"I guess you're right..." Ethan said. "But I want to head south."

"You're listening to the crazy person?"

Ethan nodded. "What can we possibly lose? It's not like we'll become more lost than we are," he said, looking around the bleak environment.

"I'll follow where you lead Ethan," Lyra said. She looked at Silver expectantly. "Are you coming?"

Silver sighed and glanced upwards. The Flesh Reaper still flew high above them watching them carefully. He didn't want to be left alone. "Crazy vision or not crazy, I'm not staying by myself. Lead on Ethan!" he said.

.

And the momentum slowly begins to build! More characters to be introduced, and more sub-plots to come! All these will be interwoven together to form a grand majestic and epic tale [that is the plan at least]. As always, reviews are much appreciated!


	5. The Fight for Freedom

**Disclaimer**

The rights to Pokemon do not belong to me

**Title**

Master of Shadows

**Summary**

A dark evil has arisen, threatening to sunder the fragile peace of the region. Ethan and his friends are forced to embark on a journey to unearth the truth while a war between different religious factions begins. Little does Ethan know, his actions will impact the lives of everyone around him.

**Special Thanks**

Thanks to Lord Agravane the Undead for reviewing the previous chapter. Also, thanks to Pure Gamer for reviewing chapter one.

This chapter looks at some of the other major characters that will be playing important roles in this story. We return to Ethan and his friends in the following chapter.

**.**

**Chapter Five: The Fight for Freedom**

"Line up the men on the wall, we cannot let these them pass!" Lord Cyrus ordered, pointing up at the huge thirty foot stone wall. The wall towered above them, casting a long black shadow which covered the kingdom. For most of the day, the city folk lived in shadow in amongst the foot of two mountains. Only in the later hours of the day would they feel the rays of the sun as it crossed to the opposite side, but it was short lived. It was always cold here.

Soldiers dressed in thick leather hide made from the skins of animals, with long swords hanging at their sides and bows on their backs, hurried towards the steps. In orderly fashion, they climbed up the stone steps and took their places on the wall and readied their bows for the first wave of invaders.

"My lord, they approach the walls!"

Cyrus withdrew his sword, and rushed up the stairs, his long grey hooded cloak flapping in the wind behind him. The symbol of a horned canine was stitched onto the back of the cloak symbolizing bravery and loyalty, worn only by the people of Icirrus. He joined his men on the ledge and squeezed in between two men to observe the battlefield. There was a sea of men dressed in black leather charging towards them shields held up high in the air to protect from a rain of arrows. But they were the least of Cyrus's concerns.

At the back he spotted fifteen eleven foot humanoid creatures, with ashen white bodies and no faces. Each humanoid carried a Morningstar in the left, and a shield in the other. A crown of thorns sat atop each of their heads, the branches dyed red. They were called the Faceless; hairless creatures spawned of dark magic by using the bodies of the dead and combining several as one. The disciple had full control over them, directing their attack as the creatures themselves could not see.

And at the very back of the army stood a man dressed in a black cloak. He wielded a quarterstaff in his left hand, while his right remained hidden beneath his clothing. His face was hidden, but the men had given him a name, The Faceless One. Not much was known about him, other than he had arrived in Jabaq a couple of months ago, to rebuild the fallen city. Where the man was getting his power from was a mystery – not even the wild mages had this much power. The forces of Jabaq grew in power each day, and Cyrus knew that if something was not done, the world would be covered in darkness.

Men on the wall drew out their bows and loaded their arrows. Cyrus lifted up a hand. "Hold your fire!" A man from a kingdom other than Icirrus would release his arrow, but the men of Icirrus knew to trust in their commander. Cyrus once called Aduri home, but was banished from its walls by the Queen for spewing mad theories and spreading fear. Now he made his home here amongst others who had chosen to follow him to death.

The wall was the only way to pass through for the mountain ranges stretched from one side of the continent to the other. If the wall fell, all would be lost. Foul creatures of darkness would pour into the remaining kingdoms and devour all that is good and pure, leaving only a trail of destruction behind. Running wasn't an option – refusing to fight would only delay the inevitable end. It was better to go down fighting for a noble cause rather than run and hide like a coward.

Pushing his grim thoughts aside, he focused his attention on the battle ahead. The enemies, from the kingdom of lost souls, Jabaq, charged towards the great wall. Frenzied battle cries erupted from the men. Cyrus brought his hand down. "Fire!" he roared.

A rain of arrows poured down below striking men and ending lives. But not all were struck down. Men carrying shields defended themselves from the arrows and continued to run, as more arrows flew down below. The monstrous Faceless walked slowly taking one large stride at a time, but mere arrows did them no little harm. The Faceless One slammed his stick to the ground causing the earth to shake. Ladders erupted from the ground at the foot of the wall reaching to the top allowing the men to climb.

"Take down the ladders!" Cyrus ordered. He rushed at one of the ladders and kicked it down, watching it topple over flattening several groups of soldiers.

"My lord!" said Saturn. "Look!" He lifted a hand and pointed to the sky. A large reptilian creature with bat-like wings hovered in the sky, its long muscular tail moving from side to side. It opened its mouth revealing two rows of sharp dagger length teeth, a forked tongue resting within. "It's a Noivern!" he cried.

Cyrus glanced at the opening between the two mountains and spotted the creature. It was a fearsome monster that made its home within the mountains, attacking all that dared to disturb its environment. Cyrus and his men had faced only ten of these creatures in a lifetime and only one was killed. The other Noivern were only wounded and sought refuge back within the valley to recover.

"Saturn, look after the eastern wall, we can't afford to have any of these men reach the top," Cyrus ordered. The man was a good two years younger than him having only reached the age of twenty-five three days ago. He had been trained with a blade since he was a child, and was one of the best swordsmen in Icirrus. His hands had dealt killing blows to opponents twice his age. Saturn nodded and hurried down to the eastern side of the wall.

The Noivern dove to the ground, bending its wings back as it dropped like a tonne of bricks. It stopped metres away from the sand, breathing a cloud of acid into the faces of men. Flapping its wings, it gained altitude and prepared to attack again. Cyrus reached his right hand over his back, grabbing his bow and arrow. He had been the only man in recent times to kill a Noivern. His father had been the first. It took great concentration and accuracy to kill such a beast.

"Cyrus, the beast it's helping us fight," Jupiter said, letting her spear drop to her right side. The tip of the weapon was covered in blood.

Cyrus looked at his companion. There weren't many women who made their home in Icirrus, but some women longed to prove themselves as capable fighters. Jupiter was two years older than himself, and she could fight as well as any man, destroying the belief the battlefield was no place for a woman. It was often said she lost himself in battle, throwing herself at enemies sometimes with no weapon in hand. "That beast will turn on us too; you know that as well as I do, Jupiter. Where is your dagger? I have need of it."

Jupiter dug a hand into his pocket and pulled out a curved copper dagger. He gave it to Cyrus, hard eyes gazing up at the man. "You're going to slay the dragon?"

Cyrus nodded, and took the dagger from Jupiter after placing his bow on the ground. "Grab one of my arrows and hold it out low." Jupiter nodded and followed Cyrus's orders, holding the arrow at level to his waist. Pushing back his cloak, Cyrus stretched out his arm above the arrow and brought the edge of the blade against his skin. He cut deep and let the blood drop onto the arrow.

He lifted the composite bow and aimed it towards the creature, loading the arrow into its position. He placed his fingers on the piece of string and drew it back. Noivern could only be killed with a certain arrow; one covered in the blood of a pure man. The wings were its weak spot. The Noivern was oblivious to Cyrus, its attention focused on the men from Jabaq. Cyrus released his hold and the arrow hurtled through the air striking the creature in its left wing. The beast screamed, a high pitched raspy screech that made a man's flesh crawl. It dropped to the ground and lay motionless.

"Good aim Cyrus," Jupiter smirked.

Cyrus lowered his bow and returned it. "The battle is only just beginning Jupiter. I would like to speak to Charon – he may have some information that can help us turn the tide in our favour." He looked around the battlefield. Men around him swung their blades fighting off invaders as they climbed up the ladders. They were losing. The Faceless One had the advantage in numbers. He turned away.

"Charon is in his quarters."

"Lead the men. I will rejoin shortly."

Jupiter nodded, and raised her sword, rushing forward to engage in a duel with the enemy. Cyrus hurried down the stairs, pushing his way through the battle, stopping just once to drive the tip of his blade into the stomach of the enemy. The soldier fell to the ground. Cyrus stepped over him and made his way to the underground tunnel system. He stopped by the deserted fireplace, and knelt down, feeling the ground for the handle. Moments afterwards, he found the handle, and moved aside the snow to lift up the hatch.

"The battle does not fare well, does it?" a voice said.

Cyrus closed the hatch and looked towards the source of the voice. An old man sat behind a desk with a pen in his right hand. Charon's age made it difficult for him to fight effectively and so he contributed to the war effort with knowledge instead. He had a mind for tactics and always seemed to know what the weak points were. Cyrus walked over and took a seat across from the man. "The Faceless One's power grows. We cannot hold this wall for much longer."

"I do not understand why you insist on fighting a battle that is not even yours to be concerned about," Charon replied, placing his pen down on the table. He leaned forward. "Queen Carolina banished you here and yet you willingly fight for her. Lay down your sword, and make peace with the necromancer, Cyrus, and you will have an army like none other. None will stand against you – not even the forces of Madari could."

"My loyalty remains to Arceus, not some pagan deity," he snapped. He then sighed, drew in a deep breath, and added, "If the Old One is set free from his cage and The Faceless One manages to take its power as his own, do you think any of us will be spared?" he demanded. "The Queen thinks I'm unstable, but I know what I saw in that vision. A dark cloud hangs over our lands Charon, and we are the only ones willing to stand against it."

"You believe what the old man showed you? The former High Priest, Rowan?" A dry laugh left Charon's throat. "Perhaps you are mad, after all. Rowan can't be trusted – why else do you think he was locked up in the Queen's chambers?"

"He was once part of the Circle. High Priests have a connection with Arceus – they can see things we cannot."

Charon leaned back, bringing a hand to his chin, rubbing the area tenderly. "And because of this vision he gave you, you spread false rumours around Aduri, claiming some dark lord would descend upon us soon if we did not act." He sighed. "The Circle should be punished for their crimes. They want us to bow down before Arceus, but I will not be so foolish. There is only one true God and he is locked in his cage. The Faceless One can free him. The Circle and their followers will cease to exist."

"You speak of treason."

A dry laugh escaped the old man's throat. "Tell me you do not feel the same way towards the Circle? You may believe in Arceus, but what good has praying done for you? Here you are hiding behind a great wall while the Circle does nothing to assist. They have abandoned you; Arceus has abandoned you. Do the smart thing and surrender, Cyrus. The other lords have withdrawn their support."

"The Faceless One is a far greater threat."

"Is that what you want to believe?" Charon shrugged. "You will find there is an increasing number of people who disagree with you, Cyrus. Lord Lysandre of Ramar has severed his ties with the Circle and is now sending his men to aid Jabaq in the war. There is even a rumour that Lord Archer of Yahma is planning a revolt against his King, Giovanni. You can choose to continue fighting the war against The Faceless One, Cyrus, but you will soon find yourself on your own."

"The Circle is the lesser of two evils."

Charon sighed. "I see that I cannot change your mind." He leaned forward again. "I assume your next question is whether or not he can be stopped. The answer is yes, he can be defeated. He is only a mortal man after all."

"And you chose not to speak of this earlier?"

"You did not ask."

Charon's loyalties were unknown. He appeared to show support for The Faceless One's cause, yet he remained here within Icirrus, helping Cyrus and his soldiers fight. The other soldiers loved Charon, believing he was one of the reasons the wall remained standing. If Charon were to be found a traitor, the morale of the soldiers would be broken beyond repair. But for the time being, Charon had done nothing to show his support for The Faceless One. All he could do was keep a close eye on the man and hope he remained loyal. "What have you learned?"

"Have you heard of the Trio of the Fallen before?"

Cyrus nodded. "You're speaking of the three felines, Suicine, Entei and Raikou. The pagan deities that were resurrected by Ho-Oh."

"Then you are aware the felines have great power."

"We don't even know if they exist. We can't believe a word the wild mages say."

"They may not be true Gods, but the felines are very real. There are four amulets in this world that contain their power and Ho-Oh's and if they are found, you will be able to craft a weapon powerful enough to stop the army of The Faceless One in their tracks. Locating the amulets is a task on its own however. All four were once in the possession of the mages, but civil war broken out between the different factions, and the amulets were lost."

Charon gestured down to the paper on the table. Glancing down, Cyrus realized the man had drawn a map of the region of Iduji. Some of the names had circles around them. Cyrus looked up, frowning. "You know where they are?"

"I have sources. One of the amulets is currently in the possession of two merchants in Madari. The second amulet lies in the dragon tamer city of Qubo and the third one is in one of the bandit camps. The fourth is worn around the Queen's neck." Charon pulled his gaze away from the map. "Find the amulets and you'll have the power to win the battle you seem desperate to win."

"I will not leave this kingdom to go treasure hunting," Cyrus replied then rose up from his chair. He prepared to leave when Charon spoke again.

"Then you will have no chance of winning this battle."

Cyrus stopped at the door and turned around. "How do you know this?"

"I've lived for seven decades, Cyrus. You have yet to reach thirty years. I know many things that you do not. You can choose to ignore my suggestion, but in doing so you may just hand over The Faceless One an easy victory," Charon replied tonelessly. His eyes were just as vacant. It was hard to tell exactly what thoughts were going through the man's head. "Ultimately, it is your choice. If I were to search for these amulets, I would begin my journey soon."

"I am not abandoning this kingdom."

"Perhaps in time you will change your mind." Charon stood up and rolled the map then placed it under his right arm. "You should probably return to your duties, Cyrus. You can think about my words later when the battle has died down." The man hobbled away. Cyrus cursed to himself. If not for Charon's old age, he would be out there on the battlefield. Shaking his head, he climbed up onto a stool and pushed up the latch to climb back out. As soon as he was on the main ground, he made his way back up to the wall.

More ladders had fallen lessening the amount of men climbing up onto the wall. Still, some had reached the top. Drawing out his sword, Cyrus rushed forward and drove his blade through the forehead of a pale soldier. He pulled out his blade and threw his body over the wall's edge. The battle continued all around him. Men screaming curses at each other, the sounds of swords clashing and the cries of the wounded and dying played in his mind... and a horn blowing. It was a deep sound that echoed throughout the mountains.

"My lord, they are retreating! The battle is won!"

Cyrus stopped. He had heard the sounds of a horn blowing; the sound of retreat. But why? It seemed random; The Faceless One's forces had the advantage. If they continued their attack the walls would be covered in enemy soldiers. But the enemy troops stopped their attacks and climbed down the ladders, to retreat back to their leader. Even the monstrous Faceless stopped. Luck was on their side again.

But he knew this was just another small victory that would not last. Jabaq would send out another force; perhaps this was their plan? To attack, retreat and attack again later in the day, making Icirrus's men tired and less alert. Cyrus prepared to make his way down the wall when a group of three soldiers approached him.

"We've caught one of the soldiers from Jabaq on the eastern wall. He slaughtered four of our men. Shall we kill him?" Mars asked a petite female with fiery red hair. Two other men accompanied her, one of them being Saturn. In between them a blond male sat on his knees, hands tied together behind his back by a thick rope. Cyrus noticed a deep gash trailing down his left arm, but the prisoner didn't seem too concerned about the wound at all.

Cyrus looked at his elite guard then looked down at the prisoner. Like all soldiers from Jabaq, he was dressed in simple white linen cloths, except this particular prisoner's cloths were stained red; most likely as a result of battle. And like all soldiers from Jabaq he had a symbol engraved in his upper left arm. It was a scythe, one of the many symbols of death. On both his wrists, he wore golden plated bracers. They signalled to Cyrus he was not just a common soldier of Jabaq, but had greater skills that would please any rich merchant looking for a protector. "He fought hard, but we eventually beat him down," Saturn said.

The prisoner spat a gob of blood at Saturn's feet, then grinned, "You're a lousy fighter," he said, brown eyes fixed on Saturn's face looking amused.

Saturn glared, curling his fingers around the hilt of his sword. "A lousy fighter? I overpowered you."

"You fight like a girl," the prisoner added, still grinning. Saturn growled, aiming a kick at the prisoner's ribs bowling him over to the side. All humour faded from his eyes and tone as he struggled to sit back up. "That's the problem with you people; you have no sense of humour. I guess living within the shadow of the mountains makes you a miserable lot." He managed to sit upright then looked at Cyrus. "Ah, you must be the great Cyrus. I've heard a lot about your _heroic_ deeds," he added.

"What is your name?" Cyrus asked.

"Morty."

Cyrus knew the name, but hadn't seen him before. Yet his reputation preceded him; he was part of the inner circle of sell swords of Jabaq, hired mercenaries with uncanny skill with a blade. His attitude confirmed it; downright careless to the core with no sense of morality. They relished in the art of killing, taking sheer pleasure in watching others suffer. Killing was a sport; it was rumoured they often competed in amongst each other to see how many people they could kill in a day. In Cyrus's eyes they were filth; walking pieces of corrupted humanity blessed with superior swordplay skills. Cyrus's eyes met Saturn's. "I want you to take him down to the dungeons; I will speak with him later."

"You're not going to stand around and chat, but I was only just getting started. Ah well, I suppose we'll have a bit to talk about later then, perhaps over a warm campfire with a cup of ale and a wench?" Cyrus didn't reply. Morty forced a sigh. "No? That's a shame. Nothing tastes sweeter than drinking from a wench's cup." He laughed at his own comment, before he was dragged away by Oliver and Saturn.

Cyrus sighed.

His troubles were only just beginning.

.

And the plot continues to grow more complex! To recap… Ethan, Silver and Lyra have been forced out of their homes, after witnessing High Priest Elm performing a ritual with Colress, a devout follower of Giratina. Bugsy is sacrificed, and Ethan begins to question his faith – perhaps the High Priests are the evil ones after all.

Enter Cyrus (one of the important secondary characters – more to be introduced as the story progresses), who has been forced out of his home thanks to his 'mad theories'. He now leads the free people of Icirrus (known as free since they have no King or Queen ruling over them), against the forces of a man with no identifiable face as of yet. He learns four amulets must be found and brought together to stop The Faceless One in his tracks (Ho-Oh's amulet is in the possession of Ethan, Silver and Lyra).

Hopefully, that's not too confusing! I have made a few slight edits to the earlier chapters to bring them in line with this one so the lore is clearer (as Pharoah Carolina is Queen Carolina now). On another note, characterizations might seem off to you, but this is based on how I interpret the characters – please don't make a note of how 'ooc' they are.

Reviews are much appreciated, as always!


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